


Rescue

by My_Furnace_Has_Wings



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Aaravos having a friend to make him change sides, I Ship It, I kind of only had an idea and tried to expand on it, M/M, Rare Pairings, Soren would be that friend, all because of one random headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26249938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Furnace_Has_Wings/pseuds/My_Furnace_Has_Wings
Summary: Soren was captured and held within Katolis' dungeons. He's determined to get out and keep Viren away from a book that will take control of Aaravos.
Relationships: Aaravos/Soren (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> Note for mentions of torture and injuries but nothing super in-depth. Please let me know if you think I should up the rating or change the warnings.

Soren’s own father kidnapped him. Kept him in the dungeons. He’d planned for people to come, to rescue Soren. But getting captured hadn’t been the plan. Being near here hadn’t been the plan. And getting separated from the group had not been part of the plan at all. But here they were. And now Viren believed his disobedient son needed to learn a lesson. 

It hurt. The torture. The dark magic that racked through his body made Soren scream. The lack of food and water. The only time he was given anything was when his sister came to visit him.

“Clauds… please.” Soren watched the conflict cross her features. Eyes flicking to the door. But she merely shook her head and made him eat. 

By the end of the week Soren silently begged for someone to come. For people to storm the castle. It was supposed to happen. But not yet. Soren wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hold on. If not for his sister still sneaking him previsions, he’d had been done for much sooner.

But it was when Viren had been discussing a certain spell as he entered the room. Soren barely awake as he rolled his head to look. He wasn’t even spared a glance. His sister was looking and nodding dutifully. Walking briskly from the room. 

“I hope Aaravos is on his way with your friends. He’ll be a nice addition to my troops.”

Soren looked up. Squinting through tired eyes. Trying to blink his sleepy haze away. There’s no way he’d join you again.

“I have just the thing to make him cooperate.” Viren idly placed objects down. “Now, are you going to tell me what I need to know, or are you going to make me do this the hard way? Again.”

The hard way. Soren closed his eyes but didn’t bow his head. Trying to imagine his friends. Remember why he wasn’t spilling secrets. When he opened his eyes again, Viren stood before him. Prepared. The hard way.

“The hard way it is.”

Soren was sure his screams could be heard throughout the castle. But no one ever came. 

It had been another couple of days and Soren had an idea of what he was after now. He was captured and imprisoned but with the little strength he had left, he could get out of here, get that book his father hoarded and get away with it. He’d had time to plan. Sure, not long, but a few days. And he’d been fed the night before. He’d learnt the schedule in which his father and sister would visit him. On time every day. 

Soren waited. Until he was ready. Until the time was right… to strike.

He slumped against his chains even more. Letting them dig into his wrists as he pretended to fall unconscious. Waiting to see if the guards would come in because he wasn’t making any noise. He huffed and quickly came up with a plan B; screaming in agony when nothing appeared to be happening. Pretending to pass out when the guards arrived to see what was happening; Sure, they’d heard him scream before when his own father had put Soren through torturous methods to make him speak. But Viren wasn’t in there, so why was someone screaming now?

The guards poked him when Soren went limp; desperately holding his breath and struggling to contain any noise. When the guards didn’t get a response, they quickly unchained him and began carrying him up the stairs. Halfway up, Soren sprang into action. Knocking both guards off balance. He easily stole one of their swords as one of them fell backwards. Slashing to keep them back. A couple of blunt blows to the head and they were out cold at the bottom of the stairs. 

Soren stripped them of their armour and weapons, locking them away for good measure. Scaling to the top of the stairs. Slipping the helmet on as he slunk past other soldiers. Past his own sister. His own father. And into the library. Flicking through scrolls and old tomes. He’d gone over again and again in his head and out loud the title. Reciting it to himself as he scanned the shelves.

“Lost Souls of Arcana. Lost Souls of-”

He freezes when he hears voices enter the room. Peering passed the shelves to see his own father talking to one of the members of the High Council. 

Viren opens one of the cupboards by the door and plucks a thick book from within. Hands carefully dusting over its cover.

“Make sure this is taken care of.” 

Soren frowns at the exchange. That must be the book. Why else would he have it hidden?

“Yes, Sire. But might I ask, why is it so important?” The High Council member eyes the hefty book. Clutching it to his chest to better hold it.

Viren doesn’t spare him a glance as he wanders deeper into the library.

Soren steps back around to keep out of view. Regretting the heavy armour as he attempts stealth. But he can still hear his father’s voice carry throughout the room.

“My servant has abandoned me.”

“You have many servants my-”

“Not a Human.” Viran pauses and seems to pick something up. It sounds like metal. A cup? “An Elf. A Star Touched Elf.”

“An Elf?”

Soren hears his father give a deep sigh. A sound he is all too familiar with. And his shoulders sag at the sound. Pressing against the bookshelf.

“He was a vital piece in my becoming King. And he was to further help me in-” Viren cuts himself off. Clearing his throat. “It doesn’t matter. I have a way to make him obey.”

“You can make an Elf bend to your will? Why not do that to all of Xadia?”

“Because I do not want all of Xadia.” Viren’s voice clips and Soren winces at the tone. Shutting his eyes as he grips his helmet. 

“Who was this Elf?”

“Aaravos.”

The name forces Soren’s eyes open. He knew. Of course, he knew. It was nothing new. He’d come here to stop his father from doing exactly what he was talking about. His friend was in danger. His crush. And all Soren could do was stand and listen. His arms slumped and hit the shelf. A loud thunk as his metal armour hit the wood.

The men’s voices stop.

“Who’s there?” The High Council member calls. 

Soren waits a moment. Weighing his options. Does he walk out and convince them he’s just a guard doing his rounds? Or does he storm out and demand the book? Soren glares forward as he picks up a couple of books and drops them purposely onto the polished floor.

“My apologies, My Lord.” Soren appears, hidden by his helmet and attempting to use a different voice. Bending down to pick a book up. “I was merely doing my rounds.”

Viren raises a brow at him but doesn’t comment. Instead turning back to his goblet and flicking through a much smaller book than the one Soren was placing back on the shelf.

For the briefest of moments, Soren stands in the quiet as he watches his father. Tired eyes scanning the pages.

The doors behind them burst open and a guard is shouting.

“We’re under attack! Your majesty, please come with me!”

The men look at each other.

Viren snaps his book closed.

Swords echo in the distant halls. Their steel clashing. Shouts reach into the library. 

The two men follow, and Soren needs that book.

“You.” The High Council member turns on him. Thrusting the book into his arms. “Guard this with your life.”

Soren takes the book. It’s heavier than he’d expected. And easier to get his hands on than he’d expected.

“Wait,” Viren starts walking back to him, hand reaching out for the book. “There’s a page in there I need-”

Soren takes a few steps back and tries to hide the book behind his back. “There isn’t time. Go. Flee! I will get this book to safety.”

As Soren steps around Viren, he can hear more footsteps behind him.

“There he is!”

“That’s my sword!”

Shit.

Soren turns to see two guards, one with half armour, and the other without any. 

“Stop Soren!”

Soren looked back to his father, the High Council member and the single guard. With a heavy sigh, he unsheathes his sword in one fluent movement and sweeps it across. Creating an arc around him; before he’s bolting down the hall. Book clutched to his chest. He slashes blindly at incoming threats. The turn he was going to take is quickly filling with more guards.

He feels a sudden push at his back, a burning sensation, and he’s thrown past his turnoff and onto the floor at the end of the hallway. An open window in front of him. The book skids along the cold stone surface to rest under the windowsill. 

With a grunt, he manages to get up. His back aches and the metal plate on his back feels hot. He tries to reach for his back as he turns to face the person that threw dark magic at him. His eyes widen when he sees his sister. Her hands still reaching out in the motion she would have used to throw whatever spell she’d attacked him with. 

“Clauds?”

Her eyes are black, but she tilts her head down. A small frown on her lips. She looks doubtful. Guilty. 

“Well done Claudia.” Viren’s staff taps as he walks towards his son. “I’m very disappointed in you Soren.”

“When weren’t you?” Soren whispers. He knows no one else hears it. But he looks away. To the nearest painting. A family. He doesn’t know them. He’s never seen them before. But they look happy. He cringes as he looks away.

“Give me the book. This will all be over soon.”

Soren staggers to the book. Lifting it up into his arms. He half turns to look back at his father.

“No…” His whisper is so quiet he’s not even sure he made a sound. Maybe he just mouthed the word. “I-I can’t.”

“Soren. Hand over the book.” Claudia pleads with him. Hands clasped in front of her. “Please.”

Outside, voices call out. People shout and more weapons clash. Screams can be heard. Roars that sound too close. Heat from above. 

Soren takes a deep breath. Closes his eyes; holding the book out as far as his arms will allow.

“That’s good, Soren.” Viren’s voice lightens. Like he’s surprised.

Soren feels his eyes leaking. “Thanks dad.” He doesn’t open his eyes. He knows his father isn’t smiling. But if he keeps his eyes closed. He can see it. 

Soren thrusts the book back into his own chest and uses the push to jump out of the open window. Letting himself fall. People shout. He can tell whose voice is whose.

“NO!”

“Soren!”

He lands sooner than expected. And alive, which is also unexpected. He manages to sit up. Book almost slipping from his chest. Landing in his lap.

Soren blinks back the tears and the haze. He landed in a cart. Full of hay.

“Alright.” He nods at the hay. Patting it. “Thank you hay. Thank you, cart.”

He glances up to see Viren turning away. Claudia appears. Hair falling over her face as he looks down at him. Fear clear in her eyes.

Soren shuffles quickly out of the hay. Picking up his sword form where it fell and sheathing it as he limps around people. He spots Ezran on a dragon. Corvus fighting beside him on the ground with a thick chain. A deadly hook on the end he’s wielding.

“Hey guys!” Soren calls. Waving his arm. Corvus turns to him, weapon raised. “Wait! It’s me!” Soren dumps the book to shirk off his helmet. 

“Soren!” Ezran calls and the dragon lowers its head and neck.

“Where’s Aaravos?” Soren doesn’t have a lot of time. “My father and sister are after something in this book-“ Soren picks the book up to show them. “-and it’s going to hurt Aaravos. Or… Or make him do bad things. That he can’t control.”

The young King and his bodyguard share a look before they point towards the entrance of Katolis. 

Soren nods. Dropping his helmet and picking up the book, tucking it under one arm and hefting his sword as he starts off to his other allies. 

It’s not easy. Enemies from almost every direction. 

Allies dotted throughout. 

Dragons descend from above, torching places and people.

But he finally spots him. Wielding magic and gracefully raising his arms like he was in some kind of dance. Soren was quick to make it over, keeping his eyes trained on the Elf. He’s not sure if his limp is gone, or if it’s the adrenaline running through him. 

“Aaravos!”

The Star Touched Elf looks over. Arms raised, magic swirling in his hands, but he pauses. Before dropping them. Grinning. Eyes wide with relief and Soren feels his heart soar.

“I got the book!” Soren holds it above his head as he runs over. He pauses and tries to dart to the side as Aaravos swipes his arms across the space in front of him. Turning his body and leaning forward as he shoots his arms out and magic leaps from him. Arching over Soren’s head and striking someone behind him.

Soren looks back, then to Aaravos. “Cool!” He stops before the Elf and holds the book expectantly. Grimacing when Aaravos doesn’t make a move to grab it. Eyes transfixed on the object; hands half raised to Soren but lower to the book. Hands hovering just over it. “I got the wrong one, didn’t I?”

Aaravos’ hands brush gingerly across the old surface. Feeling the few yellow pages that jut out here and there.

“How did you…” Aaravos trails off. Hands reaching up to cup Soren’s face. Eyes narrowing as they search for something. “Where have you been?”

“Oh.” Soren nods and shifts his amour. Scratching the back of his head. “I got captured? And then dad was going to use this to make you do something? I think he wants to take control of you?”

A few emotions flickered through the Elf’s eyes before he steeled his expression and waited for more. 

Soren was silent.

The two stared at each other for a few seconds as the wind ruffled their hair.

Aaravos glanced away awkwardly before looking back to the Human. 

“Is that… Is that all?”

Soren nodded. Humming as he felt the back of his amour again. A hole. There was a chunk of his amour missing. And now that he’d stopped, he could feel a numbing pain start in his lower back. Wincing. 

Aaravos took the book but didn’t open it. Eyeing Soren as he took off the plate of armour.

Soren poked his finger through the large hole. Reaching back to feel through his undershirt and skin. Pain shot through hm and he retracted his hand. Wincing again. He glanced up when he heard the book land with a loud thud. Aaravos squinted as he swished his arms and flames erupted. His glare evident on the old book. 

War cries echoed from within Katolis grounds. Gaining the attention of the two. Aaravos crushed the angry flames in his palm. Cutting their air harshly as he drew symbol after symbol. Never giving their approaching enemies a chance. Pushing people back. Freezing some in place. It almost looked like the Elf was dancing with how gracefully he moved. Easing from one pose to another. Spinning to shoot magic at enemies. His hair following him. 

Soren had half a moment to appreciate the sight before he turned, hefting his sword over his shoulder as he surveyed the area. Picking a trio approaching. He really should have a shield. One of theirs would do. He slashed once, ducked and weaved around the other two attacks. Shoving one of them into another and meeting the third’s blade with his own. 

Kicking his shin and knocking him off balance. He was tackled to the ground and without the armour, the ground was hard on his chest. With a grunt, he rolled over and punched their side. Forcing them off. Gripping his sword’s handle in one hand, and the blade in the other to stop a sword from coming down on his neck. His fingers stung as his blade cut into them. He huffed as he brough his foot up and kicked them between their legs. Giving him enough time to quickly scramble to his feet. Turning with just enough reaction time to meet another blade with his own. 

He heard one behind him charging. Their war cry echoed, and he glanced behind him. Spotting Aaravos glancing his way. Eyes wide as he was turning. Hands moving to strike the others down. Soren ducked at the last second and the charging enemy stabbed their comrade in the chest. 

They looked down at their wound before the sword was pulled free and they collapsed. Reaching for their wound to cover it.

One of the others knelt beside him and tried to help. 

The third attacked Soren again. 

Soren slashed their blade away once. Twice. A third time and then he gripped the back of their head and brought it down on his knee. Watching them stagger back and fall. 

He picked up their shield and turned to the other. They reached for their own sword. Their scream of vengeance was cut short as was their attempt at rising. Their gaze went hazy and collapsed. Soren blinked at them. Quickly turning his head to look at Aaravos who was looking away to face one more opponent. A quick flick of his wrists and the last enemy went down. The book Soren had retrieved was melting. Literally turning to goo as it steamed and small flames licked the edges of the remaining pages. 

Soren spared the enemy that had seemingly passed out another glance. Still out cold. He reached down to check their pulse but was called out of the action by Aaravos.

“We need to go.”

Soren nodded and wandered by Aaravos with his sword and shield. Eyeing the other’s clothes. “Wouldn’t you be more vulnerable to attacks wearing that?”

Aaravos didn’t even look at his attire. “Most people don’t get close enough to be a threat.”

Soren hummed and looked up to the roofs. He’d known people to attack from above. But no one was there. He let his eyes wander naturally over his environment. Looking for threats. Waiting for that familiar tingle up his spine.

His hand hurt as he gripped his shield, but he ignored the pain. Ignoring all the pain in his body. The burn on his back. The ache in his bones from falling out a window. The soreness in his limps from the torture. The pounding in his head from lack of sleep and water. He ignored it all. If he stopped now, he might succumb to the weariness and collapse. He just needed to keep moving. Stay awake. A battle was enough to keep him awake. Keeping the adrenaline rushing through him. 

He was thankful when they ran into other allies. Traveling together. Smaller fights broke out. But each time, Soren could feel his body protesting the movements. He briefly wondered if he’d cracked his ribs. He shook it off as useless worry though. He could shoulder this. Just like he shouldered the wounded. Carrying them to safety. Their allies had taken the castle. He’d missed the final fight between his father and whoever took him down. But here he stood. Helping injured. 

People came up to him. Fussing over his visible injuries but he waved them off. Showing them patients that were missing entire limbs. Bleeding. Already unconscious. And their attention was successfully diverted to those in need. Aaravos had warily left him to see to others. To King Ezran. Soren promised to meet up when he was done here. He wouldn’t be long. Quickly busying himself when Aaravos asked if he was alright. It was always harder to lie to him. So, he just hummed as he grabbed bandages. When he glanced back, Aaravos was gone. 

Soren sighed as he helped to settle someone down onto a makeshift bed. The streets were filled with this. As he rose again, he was met with an Elf. Not one he knew but they thanked him. Shook his hand and nodded. Told a little of his own experience of the battle. Soren shared his own moments. Feeling a wave of nausea wash over him. But he managed a weak smile. 

The Elf eyed him. A hand on his shoulder. He waved them off. Quickly busying himself with others. Helping where he could. Ignoring the heat that was taking over his body, or the cold sweat that broke out across him. 

It wasn’t until he reached the others, after asking where they were from three strangers, that he was starting to think he should have stayed at the makeshift infirmary. He was thankful he didn’t have to push any heavy doors open. They were already beaten down and hanging off their hinges. The metal twisted cruelly. Wood splintered and obviously claw marks and burns. He gripped his side, groaning as he entered the main entrance. 

“Soren!”

The man looked up to spot one of his charges. Callum. Ezran stood beside him. Corvus ready and waiting, arms folded. Soren smiled and waved. Trying to walk upright. Desperate to sit down as they all stood in a lazy circle. 

Others stood with them. Human and Elf alike. He could barely hear a word through the rushing in his ears. Swaying as he could only see shapes. Why was everyone so blurry? Was he crying? He turned to ask Aaravos but he was blurry too. And his voice didn’t work. He gurgled something and was suddenly lurching forward and coughing. Someone held him but their hands gripped his side and he tried to shove them away. Knees hitting the floor as he coughed and spat onto the ground. Crawling to lean over his hands. Desperate to breathe. He couldn’t see more than red splashing the floor by his hands. The taste of blood in his mouth. Someone’s hands were on his shoulders. Another set gripped his arm. Someone was tilting his face. He couldn’t see much of them. A dark figured loomed above him. Lights twinkled barely within the person. 

“Aa-”

***

Aaravos looked up from the tiny Human King when someone entered. Their shadow reaching long into the room. The early sun slowly rising behind him. It was a brilliant glow that framed Soren’s figure.

“Soren!” Callum called out. Hand raising to wave. Grinning in his excitement. 

Soren straightening up and offered a smile and a casual wave; one arm wrapped around his middle and grabbing at his side. He was beaten and bruised and clearly tired. He stopped among the group. All looking at each other.

Aaravos felt a wave of relief wash over him. Soren was alright. Tired and maybe a little sore but alright. He tried to keep his smile small as he focused back on the conversation. A more serious tone. What to do with Viren?

Aaravos stole a glance at Soren standing beside him. But the man was swaying a little. His eyes glazed over and tears beginning to prick them. Eyes blow wide in concern as Soren turned that glassy look on him. For a moment, Aaravos feared Soren was under control of someone else. Until he tried to speak.

Soren’s voice was cut off as he choked. A strangled sound as the man reached for his throat. Turning back and lurching as he suffered a coughing fit. Aaravos caught him as the other doubled over. Wincing. But he shoved Aaravos back as his hands tried to grip Soren’s sides to keep him upright. 

Soren dropped onto his hands and knees. Coughing more. Spitting blood. Corvus was gripping his arm and calling for his attention. Trying to get him to look at him. Opeli touched his back. Noting the burn there. 

Aaravos dropped to his knees. Hands reaching for Soren’s face.

“Soren? Can you hear me?”

Soren looked at him. Eyes squinting before they went lazy. “Aa-”.

Aaravos caught him before he could fall in his own blood and spit. Brushing his hair back and calling his name again. Whispering a few words as he kissed the other’s forehead. He didn’t wake. Aaravos carefully laid him down, Corvus helping without being asked. Aaravos splayed his hands across the worn undershirt. Magic swirled slowly as he traced his hands along the other’s body. He clenched his teeth as he bit back a curse. Steeling his voice, he made sure the others knew. Knew what was happening. And that Soren needed help. Now.

He could only do so much for Soren now. But he’d be damned if he was going to let the man die here. And he could guarantee a lecture to the man when he woke.

**Author's Note:**

> I now ship this and I am already thinking of more ideas for this pairing. Someone help me.  
> I think Soren would make a great friend for Aaravos within canon-verse. I think that should be the reason Aaravos changes sides. He doesn't want his lovable friend getting hurt.


End file.
